


Of Explosions and Ice Cream

by AceOfFates



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Minor Injuries, Tending to Wounds, Tim Drake is Catlad | Stray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 23:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfFates/pseuds/AceOfFates
Summary: It's easy up here to forget he doesn't really know Stray, and Stray doesn't know him. When Stray's laughing at one of Jason's dumb jokes it's like that's all there is in the world. Just the two of them sitting pressed together at the sides, tub of ice cream forgotten and melting between them, on a rooftop far above the hustle of the city. He doesn't know Stray outside the masks and secrets and fiery orange explosions and carefully tended to wounds and tubs of melting ice cream but he knows enough.-JayTim Week Day 3 - Rooftop Rendezvous
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64
Collections: JayTim Week 2021





	Of Explosions and Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> and i'm back with DAY 3 of jaytim week presenting: rooftop rendezvous! or at least everything happens on a rooftop. this could technically hit yesterday's prompt too of 'request' but. yknow whatever.
> 
> anyway, now introducing my take on a stray!tim au. i actually have more of this universe up my sleeve if y'all are interested in it :) let me know~

Stray casually picks at a loose thread along the edge of the gash in his thigh, his fidgeting the only thing betraying the calm facade he was presenting in the face of the explosion he’d barely gotten away from. Jason had already cleaned and stitched the wound to the best of his ability with the supplies Stray had unceremoniously dropped on the roof and now worked on a series of cuts along Strays right arm. 

Jason had heard about the explosion, although him and Batman had been too late to intercept. A warehouse on the docks going up in spectacular flames, burning bright orange against the ink black sky. Not an unusual occurrence, this was Gotham after all, but the fact that Stray and presumably Catwoman had gotten caught up in it was something that warranted further investigation.

“You gonna tell me why you ain’t letting Catwoman patch you up?”

Stray stops fidgeting briefly to tilt his head at Jason. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet, aside from the soft, “help me?” he’d offered Jason when he’d first shown up on the roof. The light glints off his green tinted goggles, Jason always thought they’d been a little ridiculous with how big and thick they were but the piece of errant metal embedded in the left lens made him reconsider.

“Selina doesn’t know I was there,” he finally says, quiet in the night.

Jason has to stop his stitching as his mind stutters to a stop. Stray never does anything without Catwoman. While she didn’t always bring Stray on her little outings, Stray was never far from his mentor if he was out.

“You gonna tell her?” Stray asks. His head is still tilted, Jason can barely make out his unwavering gaze in the non fractured lens.

“Fuck, I might,” Jason says through his teeth. “What the hell were you doing in an  _ explosion? _ ”

Stray sighs, rolling the one shoulder free from Jason’s grip and turning to look out over the Bowery skyline. “I might have miscalculated,” he offers after a moment.

“ _ Miscalculated? _ Jesus,  _ Stray _ ,” Jason starts, his voice hitting a pitch that it hasn’t since Jason hit puberty. Underneath his hand Stray tenses, a full body flinch like he thinks Jason's going to hit him.

Jason forces himself to relax, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through his teeth.

"You can't do shit like that, not by yourself."

“ _ Don’t treat me like a kid, _ ” Stray hisses loudly, wrenching his arm free of Jason’s grip even though he’s only halfway done cleaning the wounds.

“Don’t- _You are a kid!_ ”

“I’m very mature for my age, I’m told,” Stray says primly while he begins to gather the various medical supplies up. His movements are stiff and no matter how well Stray might be hiding it Jason can see the tension in his muscles from the injuries. 

Jason sits back, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“You know that’s not a good thing, right?”

Stray stops moving, shoulders drawn up tight.

“Adults just say shit like that so you don't realize they're neglecting you.” Jason’s seen it before. Kids who can’t rely on the adults around them have to learn to take care of themselves, growing up far too soon. Jason never pegged Stray for a Bowery kid, his accent was far too proper for the rough and tumble life down there. Still, he’d also never really thought there might be trouble in Stray’s homelife.

Then again, nobody became a mask because their life is going well.

There's a moment where Stray stands perfectly still, his mouth thin and small as he stares at Jason. Then Stray’s shoulders fall, his whole frame shakes slightly as he lets out a shuddering breath then he plops himself back down next to Jason, offering back his arm. 

"Just 'cuz I'm worried about you, doesn't mean I don't think you're capable." Jason's taking a shot in the dark, he knows, and it's more likely to make Stray clam up again than talk to him. It feels important, though, that Stray knows Jason cares. And isn't that a strange thought in and of itself, despite Stray's own flirty banter and Jason's often stiff replies, he hates to see Stray hurt. He hates the hurt that must go mostly unnoticed by the people in Stray's life.

"I'm alive," Stray snorts, sounding unbothered despite the way he turns his head away from Jason. "And I came to you, it's fine."

It's really, really, not fine, Jason thinks.

"At least have some backup when you do stupid shit, okay?"

Stray rolls his head in what is probably an exaggerated eye roll and says, "yeah, okay,  _ mom _ ."

Jason hits him lightly in the shoulder. "Someone has to be."

Stray snorts, this time sounding more like an aborted laugh. Good, he's relaxed even if he's still avoiding Jason's eyes. They lapse into a comfortable silence as Jason finishes dressing the wounds. He should probably introduce Stray to Doctor Thompkins but it's good enough for the time being.

"Thank you." It's a quiet admission, words almost swallowed by the sounds of traffic below them. Stray is picking at the loose thread on his thigh again, staring intently at the tip of his boot. It's not a thanks for patching him up, Jason knows.

"Hey, what're friends for?" Jason asks, standing up and stretching. "Actually I know exactly what friends are for; getting 'you lived' celebration ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Stray parrots, looking up at Jason with his head tilted.

"Yes. Ice cream. You stay here, I'll be right back."

Jason gets an entire tub of neapolitan ice cream from a nearby corner store. It's not going to be as good as one of the artisan ice cream shops over in the diamond district but it's cold and sweet which is all that matters right now. Stray is exactly where Jason left him, hugging one knee up to his chest. 

The moment Jason drops the tub down beside him he looks up and smiles. Jason has to swallow around the feeling of his heartbeat in his throat and offers out a plastic spoon. Stray eats exclusively from the chocolate and vanilla portions, leaving the strawberry all to Jason, and finally starts seeming a little more like his usual self. They talk about stupid things, like tv shows and arguing over the shapes of the clouds that fill the night sky.

It's easy up here to forget he doesn't really know Stray, and Stray doesn't know him. When Stray's laughing at one of Jason's dumb jokes it's like that's all there is in the world. Just the two of them sitting pressed together at the sides, tub of ice cream forgotten and melting between them, on a rooftop far above the hustle of the city. He doesn't know Stray outside the masks and secrets and fiery orange explosions and carefully tended to wounds and tubs of melting ice cream but he knows enough.

“I’ll tell you someday,” Stray promises softly after the ice cream has turned into a slurry in its container and the first signs of sunrise are starting to peak over the horizon. There's a fierce look of determination on his face but beyond that there's-

Trust.

Jason nods. Stray can't tell him now, even if Jason would like to prod. But he's not Batman, knowing what exactly Stray thought he was doing down by the docks tonight is less important than knowing Stray trusts him. 

“Okay, Copycat. Next time."

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at AceOfShitposts where i sometimes post other rejected works or wips and take prompts or on twitter at disastrixx for fun trains of thought such as 'what if dick was a firefighter instead of a cop and didn't get to be nightwing in the halloween pin up calendar and instead got assigned green lantern'


End file.
